


Professor Novak

by whenitstarted



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, College AU, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Professor Castiel, Student Dean, Teacher AU, destiel smut, how many ways can i say the same thing, its cute college student dean and studly college professor cas inappropriately touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 17:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1478692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenitstarted/pseuds/whenitstarted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Dean needs to pass his college class and Cas is his handsome professor willing to take a bribe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professor Novak

**Author's Note:**

> AU, no spoilers, request via anon

Dean Winchester is a freshmen in college, get this, after planning his entire future around  _not_  going to college. It just kind of fell in his lap, getting a scholarship in high school wasn't his plan. He didn't play baseball for anything other than something to keep him occupied and because he was okay at it, but then colleges started wanting him and of course his father told him that the job he had ready for him at the garage would always be there. Getting into college for free though, he wouldn't let his son pass that up.

So now he's suffered through almost a full semester studying and taking tests and copying homework and he's got all B's. Except for one class. His scholarship came with requirements, and one of them was that Dean needs to stay passing all his courses with a B or higher. But now, having a C in his English Literature course with a week left before the semester is out has left him desperate.

He won't admit aloud that he's only got a C because he sometimes ignores the professor's words in favor of staring at his face. Or his arms, when he writes on the board and has this sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Oh, or his butt, in his fancy dress pants whenever he picks something from the bottom cabinet. Yeah, those are private Dean thoughts.

"Professor Novak?" Dean knocks against the door, knowing that there isn't a class for another hour, and finds the older man sat in front of his desk, pen in hand and glasses perched on his nose while he glances between the paper on the table and the computer screen. His head turns towards the disturbance in the otherwise silent room, but his eyes stay on the screen for a few more moments before he even glances at Dean, raising his eyebrow.

"Can I help you?" He asks professionally, dropping his pen and cracking his knuckles. When Dean moves to step in, he holds his hand toward Dean, palm up. "Close the door, please."

He does as he's told before moving into the empty room, stray chairs misplaced and paper crumpled on the floor after the last lecture let out. Dean never got that, how kids in his classes would toss their garbage to the floor or not tuck their chair in, but that's another thought that he can save for a different time. "I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but I need to talk to you."

He motions to a chair near his desk, smiling at Dean. "Please, sit."

Dean does. He avoids the man's eyes because behind his glasses they look an even brighter shade of blue and this is important and he can't afford to go losing his train of thought right now. "I'm Dean Winchester and uh, I take your class Monday through Wednesday," he starts, and professor Novak nods for Dean to continue. "I um. I'm passing with a C, but I'm here on a baseball scholarship so I was wondering if there was a way you could give me some extra credit to get me to a B?" He's biting his bottom lip, eyes flicking from his professor, the floor, and his own hands in his lap. When he doesn't get a response he adds, "I understand if you don't do that, but I- it'd be appreciated."

Professor Novak raps his fingers against the edge of his desk for a moment before spinning his chair back to his computer screen, clicking around for a bit. Probably pulling up Dean's grade, he assumes.

"You've turned in all of my assignments, Mr. Winchester," he says, free hand rubbing at his stubbly jaw. "You're doing quite well in all your classes, it's only mine where you're having trouble. How come?"

He's turned back to Dean now, but it takes a moment for him to realize that because his eyes are on his teacher's hands, his fingers that were gracefully typing a second ago. When Professor Novak clears his throat, Dean snaps his attention back to his face, praying that his cheeks aren't as red as he thinks they are.

"I, um, I guess I just," he stutters around the real answer, because he obviously can't say  _"well you're really fucking hot and I get distracted_ " so he coughs into his hand to stall and give him time to think. "I'm not so good at taking tests, I guess. That's all."

"English not your strong suit?" He says, and Dean swears he's smirking but maybe he's imagining it. "You aren't stupid, obviously. Just use to sliding by, only doing the minimum, playing sports and getting by with your pretty face instead of trying-"

"Sir, I-"

"Not finished," he holds his hand up, eyes sharp on Dean. "This isn't an insult; I'm telling you that you need to apply yourself. You could easily get an A in my class if you studied harder, Dean. It isn't a difficult class."

"I know it isn't hard," Dean groans, slouching back against his chair. He's spent his entire life getting this speech, about how he's smart and doesn't try. He wonders when people will quit beating that dead horse. "I study enough. I spend every second I'm not at practice taking fucking notes, rereading chapters to engrave them in my brain, sir, I'm trying."

He raises his eyebrow at the foul language but doesn't mention it, just leans back against his own chair, folding his hands against his flat stomach, fingers interlacing. He catches Dean for the second time staring at his hands, and then it clicks. Dean has a crush on him. Which is why paying attention for longer than two minutes is seeming to be a challenge for the boy. To test his theory, he moves one hand to the arm of the chair, watching Dean's eyes dart over to it before coming back to the other, his right hand where he's scratching a fake itch on his knee. He rests it on his thigh and Dean's eyes slink over his legs then, landing back on his hands, blush high on his cheekbones.

"You know what, Mr. Winchester," he starts, voice lower than before, now that he understands. He leans over with his elbows on his knees, letting one of his hands rest on Dean's thigh. Not high, nothing inappropriate, just resting it there. "I believe you're trying. And I think the two of us could work something out to boost that grade of yours, yeah?"

Dean nods dumbly, trying to stop thinking dirty thoughts about the older man in front of him but his hand is on his leg, he can feel the heat of his palm, the curve of his long fingers and he sighs heavily, licking his lips. "I'll do whatever it takes, sir."

His eyes, pupils wider than before, lock with the pair of dazzling blue ones. He glances to his professors lips, eyes lingering there before moving down his torso and to the front of his black dress slacks. When he looks up again, Professor Novak has an eyebrow raised. "I'll do whatever it takes, to get my grade up, Professor," he repeats.

"I bet you would," his voice is gravely and way too much of a turn on for Dean to not shiver, leaning in closer, scooting his chair towards Professor Novak's and that makes his hand move higher on his thigh. "I bet you'd do whatever I ask, even if it wasn't just for your grade, wouldn't you, Dean?"

Dean blushes harder and nods because fuck yes this is going somewhere, and he can tell. He swallows nervously and watches his teacher's eyes follow the movement in his throat. "What do you want me to do, sir?"

He grins at Dean, standing up and squeezing by between Dean and the desk. He checks that the door is locked, drawing the blinds down on the glass window beside the door. "You know what," he starts, coming back over to Dean whose eyes are locked on the way his Professor's hips sway and move. His hands move up, loosening his tie, as he steps back between Dean, leaning against his desk. He drops a hand to Dean's jaw, tracing a thumb over his lips and tugging the bottom one out, feeling Dean's breath puff out against the digit. "You want the grade, you need to show me you deserve it, don't you? I can't just  _give_   _it to you,_  you need to earn it for yourself."

Dean nods, panting against his hand slightly, hesitantly raising his hands to grasp at the older man's hips, letting them run over the sharp bones there. He's still talking above him, but Dean has stopped listening; just the soft rumble of his voice in the back of his mind. He casts his eyes up through his eyelashes, mouth open, licking his lips as his teacher's grips gets tighter, using his thumb to open Dean's mouth further. Raising an eyebrow at him, Dean smiles, biting at the pad of his thumb before tracing his tongue around the tip, closing his lips around it and watching his teacher's breath catch. His hands slide further down, opening his belt with their eyes locked, letting his Professor slide his thumb messily out of his mouth, smearing his spit down his chin.

Dean thinks it's too quiet in the room. They can hear the muffled talking coming from the room next door to them from a different lecture, but it's easy to ignore. "When's your next class, sir?" Dean asks, popping the button of his pants, one of his hands pressed directly to the older man's hard on, palming him through the layers of clothes. His shirt un-tucks easily, and Dean leans in to nip and kiss at his hips, under his bellybutton, licking a stripe up the trail of dark hair leading downward. Dean is insanely hard in his own jeans, but just the thought of sucking his teacher off in his fucking  _classroom_  makes him want it so much more. He'll deal with himself later, right now he just really wants to get this going.

He glances at the clock, then back to Dean. "Twenty minutes," he says, tugging the hair at the base of his neck, making Dean bite back a whimper. "Gotta be quick, don't you?"

"I won't need that long," he grins, leaning in and using his teeth to bite the zip of his pants, tugging that down. He hears a groan above him, Professor Novak pushing his hips forward, his cock pressing to Dean's cheek through his underwear. The older man's belt scratches against his face, so he tugs his pants down, just a little. He kneels then, kicking the chair he was in backwards and his hands are shaky when he reaches in his his boxer briefs, pulling them just enough to free him.

His hand pushes against the back of Dean's head, urging him forward, and so Dean licks his lips, opening up to his teacher and letting him in completely. They moan in unison, because well, Mr. Novak is getting his dick sucked, but Dean because he has thought about this moment and it's so much better than anything his imagination could dream up. The weight on his tongue, the taste, the noises he's making; it makes his cock drip in his underwear.

One of his hands circles around the base of his teacher's dick, the other reaching underneath his shirt just to touch the warm skin there, tease his nipples, make his back arch. His tongue presses and twirls and licks and he pulls off, pressing the tip of his tongue to his slit to taste the precome already there, lapping at it and watching him through his eyelashes. He's got one hand on the back of Dean's neck, the other next to him to steady himself and grip at the edge of the desk.

"Jesus Christ," he pants, tipping his head back, hips moving on his own accord and Dean lets them, dropping his hands away from him and letting him just thrust into his mouth for himself. He isn't sure when it happened, but he's palming himself through his jeans, his other hand wrapping around the teacher's upper thigh, urging him forward and moaning when the tip hits the back of this throat. He pulls out of Dean's mouth completely and Dean quickly moves to lick at the base, pressing open mouthed kisses against the spots he couldn't reach before, letting his tongue wander lower, licking and mouthing at his balls. He's shaking already, bending his neck down to watch Dean through hooded eyelids, licking his lips at the sight.

He grabs Dean by the chin, his other hand taking hold of his cock and Dean opens up quickly, making the older man grin at his urgency, his eagerness to please. He doesn't let Dean have it yet though, instead traces Dean's bottom lip back and forth with the head of his dick, leaving them shining with precome. He's watching Dean touch himself through his jeans why he slowly strokes himself to try and calm down, make it last just a bit longer. But Dean's tongue darts out to lick at the mess the older man had made on his lip, and he moans at the taste which nearly makes the teacher come then, just watching him.

"C'mon," he murmurs, placing the head of dick on his bottom lip, letting Dean take him back in with a swirl of his tongue, hollowing his cheeks and sucking prettily. "Fucking earn it," he gasps, holding back again.

Dean raises his hand, jerking his professor slowly, the flat of his tongue licking against his head while he waits patiently. "I know you want to," the younger boy says with a smile, pressing the heal of his hand harder to his own aching erection, still tucked in his jeans. "Know you're holding back. Why don't you come? I want you to, sir."

"Want me to come, yeah?" He pants and Dean smiles, moving his hand quicker even at the slightly awkward angle, and opens his mouth just out of reach from him to thrust in to.

"Yes please, sir, please," he moans, almost slipping his hand into his pants but he can't think about moving right now, just keeps pressing into his dick, jerking Professor Novak, his fucking  _teacher_  off, waiting for him to come on him. "Want you to bad, all over my face. Don't hold back for me, Professor Novak, just come on me, please."

His cock jumps and a second later he is, shooting all over Dean's cheek, his lips, in his open mouth, cursing loudly. Dean keeps jerking him, milking him and licking what he can off his lips and cleaning his cock off with his tongue. He can feel it drip down his face, a string from his cheekbone is about to dribble all the way down and off his chin. Professor Novak catches it with his pointer and middle finger, holding it up to Dean's lips and groans as he takes the come covered digits so willingly.

Dean's close to coming himself, and he stays on his knees, come drying on his face and lips and so hard in his jeans as his teacher tucks himself back into his pants, watching him.

"Go on," he says, voice raspier than before. "You can come, Dean."

He whimpers, pressing harder but it isn't enough but he knows he can't ask for anything because what if he says no? But then he's smiling, pulling Dean back to a standing position and turns him so he's leaning against the desk instead.

"How bout I give you that B, if you come in your pants for me, Dean?" He murmurs, lips right at his ear and hand on the bulge in his jeans.

"Mm, want an A," he pants, head tipped back and eyes closed in bliss as he thrusts into his hand. His teacher chuckles softly against him, moving his hand and pressing his thigh between Dean's, letting him grind against his leg to his heart's desire.

"You think you deserve an A?"

He just turns his head, showcasing the dried come all over the side of his face and neck. Professor Novak takes the opportunity to lean in, licking at his own come splashed on Dean's face, which makes his hips stutter against his teacher's thigh.

"Alright Dean, you can have an A. You gotta come though, huh? Got yourself so hard sucking me off," he shakes his head, tsking. He rolls his hips into Dean's, who gasps, grabbing his professors hips, and holding them close.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm-"

"Come on, be good and come for me, Dean," he's biting at his neck, letting Dean fuck into his leg and then Dean's coming hard, and in the back of his mind he wonders if it'll be noticeable through his jeans but doesn't really care, just keeps rolling his hips into his teacher's, moaning brokenly against him.

Afterwards, it's one of those feelings where he's in shock but the waves of pleasure just keep catching up to him over and over again until he's settled, feeling the mess in his underwear and already uncomfortable with it being there. He blushes when he opens his eyes, his teacher still in his personal space, and he grins, placing a chaste kiss to the corner of Dean's panting mouth. He doesn't even kiss back, because breathing is seeming to be quite difficult right now.

"You'd better get to your dorm before someone comes in and catches you looking like this," he murmurs, thumb tracing over the white on Dean's jaw. He blushes harder, feeling the heat in the tips of his ears. "I'll be sure to add your extra credit in, so long as this stays between us, Dean."

"Of course, sir," he nods and the older man chuckles, stepping away from Dean's limp body, and he scrambles to make his legs work again, standing back up. "I'll be on my way then. Thank you, Professor Novak."

It's uncomfortable as hell to walk with drying come in your underwear, but Dean isn't so much thinking about that as he is replaying the events that took place in the last half an hour.

"Dean?" His teacher calls, and he turns, raising an eyebrow at him. "When we're in private, you may call me Cas instead. Professor Novak is such a mouthful. Though I am perfectly fine with keeping sir, given the situation."

The bell rings then, and Dean nods quickly because if he just said that this can be a thing that happens more than once, or hinted at it, Dean is obviously going to take that deal. "See you around then?" He grins, and Cas, fucking  _Cas,_  smiles, nodding.

"You know where to find me."

"Goodbye, sir," he flashes another smile before his students file in, winking and turning back out of the room. Dean hears him chuckling as he walks down the hallway, and finds himself unable to suppress his own smile, though he does have to walk with his head down and hood up to hide the evidence of what just happened.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my absolute favorite prompt I got, so thank you anon who asked for it! I know it's late too, but ehh ahaha I hope you like it, let me know!


End file.
